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Under the Southern Sun [Poems]
by Mary B. Heyer

Overview - This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1901 Excerpt: ... temple come To celebrate Thy eternal love.  Read more...

 
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More About Under the Southern Sun [Poems] by Mary B. Heyer
 
 
 
Overview
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1901 Excerpt: ... temple come To celebrate Thy eternal love. Come to the blessed feast, come be our guest, And spread Thy wings o'er us, O Holy Dove The Lenten days have passed and now the Hallowed vigils of the cross we keep; A sad, sweet duty, born of love alone, As o'er Thy broken body, Lord, we weep. The Priest before the sacred altar stands--The music peals forth soft and sweet and low, The pure white lilies shed their fragrance here, Fit emblem of Thy spotless life below. The snowy linen on Thy table spread, The burning tapers cast their light around; The solemn stillness of the sacred hour Before the sacrifice, our souls bow down. The Last Supper. 131 Strip pride and envy from our hearts away, Cast sin in every form from us to-night. We want to be as pure and free from stain As when before Thy face in Heaven's new light Oh, if we might, like favored John, Upon Thy loving, tender breast recline. Or, as in days of old, like Mary sit, In holy rapture, at Thy feet divine. This sacred feast, oh Saviour, fills our hearts, With glory borne from Heaven above. Exultantly our souls now rise to Thee In sweet and grand triumphant songs of love. We know Thy spirit now is brooding near, Our souls adore Thy gracious presence, Lord. Such joy divine such peace such deep repose In streams come now descending at Thy word. We fain would linger in Thy presence dear, The music peals so soft and low and sweet. We fain would linger at this hallowed feast Oh rapture sweet to linger at our Master's feet f GOOD FRIDAY. "They shall look on Him whom they pierced." My Saviour, on this holy day, My spirit turns to Thee. I see Thee on Thy face in prayer I see Thy agony Father, pass this cup from me was The cry of Mary's son--If not--resigned, I'll drink it, Thy will, not mine, b...


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Details
  • ISBN-13: 9781236324467
  • ISBN-10: 1236324463
  • Publisher: Rarebooksclub.com
  • Publish Date: May 2012
  • Page Count: 32


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